


Lost and Found

by tayryn



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 12:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10876671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/pseuds/tayryn
Summary: He'd thought her lost to him... until fate stepped in to prove him wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jisforjudi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jisforjudi/gifts).



> As promised, the 'proper' fic based on my drabble [ Found](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10608888).

James leaned against the stone pillar, careful to keep himself hidden in the shadows, and kept his gaze fixed on the petite figure standing but a few feet away.

He could feel hope welling within him, but quickly tamped it down as he worked up the nerve to approach her.

He snorted quietly to himself. James Bond, International Secret Agent, ladies’ man extraordinaire, working up the courage to approach a woman.

However, it was true all the same. He was working up the courage, as he’d been this close before, and had been disappointed. He was determined not to go through that pain again, even as his mind and heart whispered that it was her.

M.

James swallowed hard as the painful memories surfaced once again.

That night, little over a year ago now, had been the worst, absolute worst night of his life. Even more so than when he’d lost his parents.

She had died in his arms that night.

He had felt the life leave her body as she’d breathed her last, and in that moment, his heart had broken; shattering into a million pieces at the realization of how much time he had wasted by not telling her how he truly felt about her.

After pressing his lips to her forehead, he had dipped his head lower, daring to kiss her lips for the first and last time, and that was when he’d felt it.

A breath.

Her breath.

Faint, lighter than a whisper against his lips, but her breath nonetheless.

Hope had flared, hot and furiously, deep inside. She wasn’t dead. At least, not completely; not yet. There was still a chance.

He’d quickly lowered her to the chapel floor, and had begun CPR. He’d winced when he’d heard and felt her ribs crack beneath the pressure of his palms, but he hadn’t stopped until she’d gasped, her eyes flying open.

Only then had he gathered her back into his arms, and kissed her once again; begging her in a raspy breath not to leave him. He hadn’t wanted to let her go, not even when Six’s medical team had arrived, too afraid to lose her again, and had only released her with the promise he would be allowed to accompany her in the helicopter to the hospital.

A deep frown marred his face at that particular memory.

He hadn’t been allowed to go with M. A fact which still pissed him off to no end. 

No, he’d been ordered to stay at Skyfall (and had been detained physically by Six personnel) until Mallory, acting head of Six at that point, arrived to assess the situation. By the time that had been taken care of, and he’d finally made it to the hospital M had been taken to, it had been too late.

He’d been informed that she had crashed again while in transport, and the med-team had been unable to resuscitate her.

He hadn’t believed it; hadn’t believed M was dead; everything screaming in him that she couldn’t be gone.

When he had asked to see her body - needing to see for himself that the woman who had been part of his life for so long, and who had meant more to him than his own life was no longer alive - he’d been told it wasn’t allowed.

He wasn’t family.

James had laughed at that, then had tried to explain to the medial staff that she had no family, that he was the closest thing to family she had.

That hadn’t worked either.

Angry and, as much as he’d hated to admit it, just a little bit scared that she truly was gone, he’d lost his patience, and had demanded to see her; threatening the doctors and nurses with bodily harm if they did not let him into her room.

In the end, it had taken the arrival of Mallory and the security team from Six (the same team that had kept him from leaving Skyfall) to remove him from the premises… and he’d still been denied access to her.

Within the week, she’d been cremated, her will read, and her estate divided up.

He’d not been allowed to attend the service.

His frown deepened.

He still had the bloody ceramic bulldog. He hated it, but it had been hers, and so he kept it. (He treasured the bloody thing, truth be told, but would never admit it aloud.)

He’d thrown himself into his assignments after that; his heart in pieces. He couldn’t bring himself to accept that she was gone, and yet… and yet, he had been unable to find any evidence of her death having been faked.

And he had looked.

He’d hacked into Six’s database, but had come up empty.

Little by little he’d started believing it was true, that she was gone; that he’d failed, and as a result, she had died in his arms.

Then, three months after ‘her death’, he’d had that dream.

A very real, very vivid dream, and when he’d woken up, he’d known for certain that M, his M, was still alive. And he’d known, as the tendrils of the dream had slowly dissipated from his mind, that he had to find her, and would stop at nothing until he had.

He hadn’t bothered hacking into Six’s system again. He’d not found anything when he’d first tried, and had known he wouldn’t on his second try. If Mallory had had any part in making her disappear, in giving her a new identity, a new home, then he hadn’t kept any official records.

So he had begun to search for her. Actually, search for her everywhere he went. When on assignment, when not on assignment, he’d looked for her constantly. 

He’d begun paying closer attention to the things Mallory said and did, hoping for a slip, a clue, anything that would give him some idea of where she might be.

If Mallory had had any hand in her disappearance, he was not giving anything away.

James sighed.

He’d been looking for the last ten months.

With no success.

Until tonight.

His lips curled in a wry smile; the irony not lost on him.

He’d been on assignment, and had not been consciously looking for her. At least not this time.

He’d been sent after the playboy son of a wealthy oil magnate who Six suspected of being involved in human sex trafficking.

His orders had been simple: if Dominic **was** involved, find out as much information as he could about who his contacts were, then terminate him.

He’d followed Dominic to California, then to Vancouver.

At first, James had been confused as to why Vancouver, then he’d remembered that particular Canadian city had a growing film industry, and had become, not only a popular tourist destination for that reason, but it also lured countless numbers of young women hoping for that big break.

It had made perfect sense to James then.

Dominic’s appearance at this fundraiser made sense now as well.

He just never would have guessed that **she** would be here.

Hope welled again, and he shook his head.

No. He would not believe it until he’d got more than a brief glance. But it had been that brief glance that had had his heart suddenly racing in his chest, and his breath catching in his throat.

It had been enough for him to hope.

It had been enough for him to quickly dispatch Dominic, so he could follow her outside onto the veranda.

And now, he stood in the shadows, watching her as she stared out over the gardens.

A deep sigh floated across to him on the gentle, evening breeze, and he decided it was now or never. Before he could do more than take one step forward, however, the woman before him slowly turned.

The air rushed out of James’ lungs, as he fell to his knees, and his eyes filled with tears as the hope he’d been clinging to gave way to gratitude.

“M…” he whispered.

It was her.

His heart pounded furiously in his chest.

Oh god, it was her! She **was** alive.

She looked at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

There was so much he wanted to say to her; so much he wanted to ask her, but all he could manage was a hoarsely uttered, “Why?” 

“007?”


	2. Chapter 2

Olivia stared out over the gardens without seeing them.

She hadn’t wanted to come tonight, had thought herself finished with these sorts of affairs, but Elliot had asked, and she hadn’t had the heart to say no.

He’d been one of the first of her neighbours to welcome her to the neighbourhood when she’d moved in, and for the last six months they’d been seeing each other. And while they had shared a few kisses, it had not gone beyond that. Not for lack of trying on his part, but she wouldn’t let it go any further… couldn’t let it.

And she knew why she was keeping him at arms’ length.

Elliot wasn’t the one she wanted. It wasn’t his arms she longed to have wrapped around her.

Sadly, the one she wanted… 

Olivia sighed deeply. It could never be. Not now.

It’s why she’d asked to be resettled here. She hadn’t wanted to remain in England any longer; not without…

Her memories of those last moments in the chapel were fuzzy.

She remembered being cradled in his arms, feeling her life draining away as she looked up into concerned blue eyes. 

And then there was pain. 

Pain mingled with the sounds of relieved whispered words, then nothing until she’d woken up in the hospital.

She’d asked about James. Of course she had. He’d risked everything - his home, his life - to save her after all, and he had been with her in the chapel at the end. The answer she’d received was that he was on assignment; that he hadn’t sustained any injuries, and was okay. She’d breathed a sigh of relief at the news.

She’d continued to ask about him throughout her convalescence, because she was, as Mallory had put it that day in her office, sentimental about him, and she desperately wanted to see him; see for herself that he was okay. The answer was always the same: he was on assignment.

Three months into her recovery, the answer changed.

Mallory had come to tell her personally.

Killed while on assignment.

Olivia closed her eyes at the pain that memory still evoked within her. Her heart had broken in that moment, and she’d felt empty inside. Empty, and completely and utterly alone.

So much wasted time, Olivia thought bitterly as she opened her eyes. It was the same thought she’d had repeatedly since that horrible day.

And that was the day she’d asked to be relocated here; on the other side of the ocean; needing to be as far away from her old life as possible. She’d been here once before, years ago, when she was an agent, when **she** was 007, and thought it far enough to run from the memories.

Regret may be unprofessional, but her feelings were personal, and she regretted not telling him.

Olivia sighed deeply, and with a resigned shake of her head, she turned to go back inside.

She stopped suddenly as a figure stepped out of the shadows, then fell to his knees with a deep exhale.

“M?”

His voice caressed her ears as her heart began to race. It couldn’t be. 

“Why?”

“007?”


	3. Chapter 3

Blue eyes locked with blue eyes.

“Why did you let me believe you were dead?”

“But you can’t be, you’re dead.”

They spoke at the same time.

Olivia shook her head. It couldn’t be. He was… “James?”

Her voice was soft, and uncharacteristically shaky to James’ ears as he got to his feet. “Hello, M,” he said, his own voice gruff with emotion.

Suddenly they were in each other’s arms. 

Neither one was certain who grabbed who, but in the end it didn’t matter, as they simply held tight to each other.

“Oh god, M… it is you. I finally found you,” James murmured into her hair. “I was told you’d died on the way to the hospital.”

Her arms tightened around him in response. “They told me you’d been killed while on assignment.”

The first and last time he had held her had been just after he’d revived her when she’d died in his arms in the chapel at Skyfall. Feeling her so warm and full of life now brought fresh tears to his eyes, and he buried his face fully in her hair.

The sounds of the party suddenly grew louder, and without hesitation, James stepped back into the shadows, behind the pillars, pulling her with him, as they heard footsteps approaching.

“Olivia?”

A tall, grey-haired gentleman in his mid-seventies appeared on the veranda.

“Strange,” he muttered to himself, “I thought she’d come out here.”

He glanced around again, then turned, and headed back toward the party.

“Your date?” James asked quietly, very aware that he was still holding her close, noting that she’d made no move to extricate herself from his embrace, her head still resting against his chest.

“Yes.”

“Is it serious?” The very thought of it, of her being involved with another man, was like a knife in his heart.

“No. Not in the way you’re thinking. We’re just friends, though Elliot would like more.” She found herself confessing, still not making any move to leave his embrace. She was in his arms, where’d she’d only ever dreamt of being. She felt safe, and no longer alone.

“Good.”

Something in his voice made her pull back and look up at him. “Why good?”

“Because I don’t think I could stand it. Not again,” James told her, then admitted, “I was jealous of your husband.”

“You were?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

James’ fingers flexed against her waist. “Because, M, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

“Oh, James. I wish you’d said something sooner.”

Confusion filled his eyes.

“My marriage was one of convenience. Reginald and I were just friends,” she told him. “Nothing more than that.”

“Really?”

Olivia smiled. “Really.”

James held her gaze, staring deeply into her eyes for several moments, then grasped her face in his hands, and lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss started off slow, almost tentative, but when Olivia parted her lips beneath the gentle pressure of his tongue, James kissed her with all the feelings and desires he’d long held inside.

Olivia felt dizzy with the rush of desire as she responded to James’ kiss. She held nothing back, kissing him hungrily as years of suppressed feelings came rushing to the surface.

He eased his mouth from hers, lifting his head just enough to meet her eyes. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I love you so much, M.”

“…James…” It was all she managed before his mouth covered hers again.

Christ, he was scandalously good at kissing, she thought, as she slid her hands up his back to curl them around his shoulders. Never had she been kissed with such passion, such intensity of emotion, and Olivia found herself drowning in him.

“I love you, too,” she told him, panting softly when he finally released her mouth, and watched a beatific smile light his face.

Olivia had never, in all the years she’d known James, seen him look so happy, and could not help returning his smile.

“I never thought, never even dared hope that you felt the same way,” he said, stroking his thumbs back and forth between her cheekbones and the corners of her mouth.

“I know,” she replied in a quiet voice. “I’m sor --”

James kissed away her apology. “Don’t. Let’s not waste time on apologies. There were extenuating circumstances.”

“True. And now we’ve been given a second chance.”

“Yes we have,” James agreed. “And I think we should grab onto it with both hands, and run.”

Olivia smiled.

“So, what do you say, M? Do you think it’s still too late to make a run for it?”

Her smile grew. “I thought you’d never ask.”

James grinned, then ducked his head to brush his lips against hers. “Let’s go.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you here on assignment?” she asked.

“Technically, yes. However, I’ve taken care of the matter already.”

“You killed him,” Olivia responded.

“He gave me no choice.”

Olivia shook her head fondly.

James dropped his hands from her face as he shrugged. “So, are you ready to make a run for it?”

“What about Elliot? I should say goodbye to him.”

“Ring him from the car.”

Olivia held his eyes, then slowly nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”

“That’s my M!” James’ grin returned.

“Where will we go?” Olivia asked.

“Wherever your heart desires,” he answered, as he took one of her hands in his.

Olivia smiled and squeezed his fingers.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sir,_

_I hereby tender my resignation with immediate effect._

_Sincerely,  
James Bond_

_PS._

_I found her._

 

At his desk in Vauxhall, Gareth Mallory smiled.


End file.
